I Faked it Too!
by cuppateaforyou
Summary: A few years after the fall and Sherlock and Jim are both attending a party. Wait-Jim, alive? In the same room as Sherlock? Well, this is going to be quite a show. - MorMor pairing-No cussing-Yeah, I wrote a story with no cuss words-Based off of an interview thing with Moffat where he was surprised to hear that we thought Moriarty was alive-If someone wants to make me cover art...?


**Hi, hi! Well, this is my little one shot! It's set after the fall, so...yeah. I've been working on this one for a week now (and not my other, neglected little story). I tried to set it up so there's no cuss words-which was difficult-and I tried to have it so you can choose who, if anyone, Sherlock is dating. Many thanks to a certain the-lonely-assassians who helped me develop the idea on Omegle! I'll have the other idea the two of us came up with posted soon. For now, please enjoy and review! Thanks!**

Sherlock had not been looking forward to this little party. But John had insisted and played the guilt card on him. Really, he couldn't say no. It was some gathering for some event that Sherlock didn't care about. He couldn't remember if it was public or a private party so he just let John tidy his hair and drag him into the cab, sighing as he exited when they reached the building.

"Sebby, come on! We'll be later than is acceptable to be fashionably late!" Jim pestered his boyfriend. He didn't understand why Seb was always so against wearing nice clothes. He looked great in them. But, despite Jim's numerous threats, Seb would only go as far as wearing slacks and a white button down. He even insisted on getting his precious combat boots on and rolling up the sleeves. "No tie, no jacket, dirty shoes, you've managed to wrinkle your shirt and it's just not working for me. Seb, the police are going to come for you, only this time it'll be for this hideous outfit, not murder." Jim teased. Sebastian smiled as he pulled his typical bad-boy shades onto his head. "And the sunglasses. You'll mess you your ha- You know what? Nevermind. Lets go!" Jim wasn't even going to try. He had killed, surely hundreds, yet he couldn't get one man to dress nice for a party. I'm losing my touch…

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock grabbed his phone from his pocket so he could do something mildly interesting. Text Molly? Bother Mycroft? Both. Definitely both. "Of course I'll be okay, John. I was practically homeless for three years. I think I can manage a little outing." He smirked as he heard his flatmate snort sarcastically and turn on his heel, clearly annoyed.

Sebastian sighed contently as Jim pulled him into the building. He had been through so much for Jim, with Jim, that coming here honestly didn't bother him all that much. But he would rather be at the flat than in these uncomfortable, expensive clothes. Jim wouldn't even let them take the bike because it would 'ruffle their clothes or their hair'. "Hey, I'll be right back. You didn't give me enough time to go to the bathroom before. Don't go far." Seb walked off, mentally preparing himself for the bad music and loud chattering he'd have to endure tonight.

The Consulting Detective looked up from his conversation with Molly and had to do a double take. That's funny. That man looked like...OH MY GOD. HE DID NOT! Sherlock stood, a frown firmly pressed on his face, and walked over to someone who was not supposed to be here, smiling and dancing, looking around for someone, adjusting his jacket, breathing. A man, a spider, who had shot himself in the face, through the brain, almost four years ago. "You…"

"Sher...No…"

Jim Moriarty stared back at Sherlock Holmes who was certainly not supposed to be here. Both looked the other up and down, not believing what he saw. Jim turned so he could face Sherlock head-on and Sherlock straightened his back, wanting to look more intimidating and taking advantage of Jims size.

"Don't do that. It's sickening. And terribly rude."

"But...I faked my suicide. I solved your riddle and I lived. I outsmarted you. I cleaned up your cobwebs. W-Why are you here…"

"Well, isn't someone feeling a bit full of themselves. You clearly weren't supposed to live. I-Hey. I'm the smart one here! ME! MY!" Jim's brain was short circuiting. This man walked away from one of his most complex riddles and not only that but he was not in any way crippled! His friends were alive, unharmed! This was unacceptable!

"You mean to tell me that I went through all of that! I was homeless for years, I went to all of those far off places, I was undercover, I had NO ONE for NOTHING!?"

"You think YOU'RE mad? Do you know how many people were supposed to walk away from that? ME. That's how many!"

"I OUTSMARTED YOU!"

"NO. I'M THE SMART ONE."

Sebastian came out of the bathroom whistling. He had scared some guy out of his wits while washing his hands and it was funny, to say the least. Hearing shouts, Seb turned his head to where he last left his boyfriend. Seeing Jim in a heated argument with someone in the middle of a fancy party did, in no way, surprise him. Sighing, he walked over to see who spilled what on which suit, as that was undoubtedly what had happened...Again. I wonder how far away this person lives. Hopefully somewhere close with windows facing the roads. I just want to get home. Awww, and my favourite gun is being fixed, too. So it is going to be one of those nights.

"SEBBY! GET OVER HERE!" Sebastian sighed and walked over, not enjoying being pulled into Jim's arguments. They're much funnier when he can just watch from the sides. "DO YOU SEE THIS MAN?! THIS MAN WENT THROUGH SO MUCH BECAUSE HE THOUGHT I WAS GONE! AND THEN I WASN'T! I WASN'T!" Jim was frantically gesturing to Seb now while yelling at the other man.

Wait, is he referring to his fake suicide? But I thought no one knew about that? Those two years of torture... That's when curiosity really took his toll and Seb got a good look at the other side of the argument.

"Holmes?"

It couldn't be Sherlock, the one that jumped off a building after Jim fake died. Because that would mean that Sherlock had fake died as well. That they had falsely committed suicide at each other.

"You too? God, I'm surrounded by retarded geniuses."

"JOHN! JOHN! COME!" Sherlock began waving at someone at the other side of the building who in turn began walking casually towards the screaming men.

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold everything!" Both the consultants looked at Sebastian who looked at Jim. "So you're saying that this." Seb pointed at Sherlock, "This is the guy that caused you to abandon me for thirty two months?" Jim crossed his arms and looked up at his boyfriend. "I am." he said pointedly. Seb looked back at Sherlock, fury and disbelief building up inside of him. Jim smirked triumphantly, clearly pleased with the reaction.

"Ye-Nooooooo. No,no,no,no,no. I don't think so. Nope. I'm not even-Nope." John had arrived and instantly seen Moriarty, the vicious face, the recurring name, both frequenting his nightmares and causing him to wake up sweating and breathless in his bed. "I can't even-No. Sherlock, if this is your twisted idea of humour, I am going to kill you. Slowly." Jim caught a small mumble of "That's my job." from his loyal and loving assassin. John was standing in the now circle of men, shifting his weight from one foot to another and glancing at all three of the others in turn. His eyes wanted to linger on Jim's face, wanted to study it for imperfections. But his heart and his head told him not to, forcing his eyes to flete away before John could pick up any real details. "I really refuse to believe that this is happening." It was simply too absurd.

The others had been watching the blond, waiting for an outburst of emotion. What emotion that would be, they couldn't be sure. Seb was smirking at the shorty, amused. Jim was impatient, wanting to continue the argument. Sherlock was rushing through all the things John should be saying to help him win the debate, baffled at why not one of those things were coming out of his mouth now.

"At least my boyfriend knows how to distinguish fact from fiction."

Sherlock's head snapped up at the annoying criminal. "Hey! HEY! Back off! It's not his fault you're a vile, crude, insufferable MONSTER!"

"DON'T TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT!"

"SHUT UP!"

All eyes were on Watson. "I see what happened here! You thought you were oh so clever with your little game!" he gestured towards wildly to Jim who looked back, head tilted down, frown on his face, eyebrows raised in question. "And you thought that you were the smart one for figuring it out!" Sherlock watched his blogger as he ranted, now pointing at the detective.

"But I was!"

"I SAID CAN IT!" his eyes were dangerous as they dared anyone else to interrupt. "So you both faked your death for each other." John paused to let that sink in, hoping the two brainiacs felt completely idiotic and downright stupid. "Then you both managed to go over three full years without the faintest idea that the other was alive. Even though those years were spent obsessing over the other. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?"

Both of the men looked like boys who had just been yelled at by their mums for getting in a fight at school. Seb was still standing aside, taking everything in at a safe spot. His shoulders were arched back and his arms were crossed over his chest. He had one foot that he was leaning back on and one in front, holding his place in the circle. Seb's lips were pursed in thought with his brows slightly kitt and his eyes following the shouts, with the occasional glance at Jimmy, to make sure he wasn't too close to completely blowing his top.

Both consultants were screaming again, with the occasional intrusion from John. Sebastian sighed. This was getting old. And it was putting Jim in a bad mood. The last thing Seb wanted when he got home was his Jimmy in a bad mood. That would completely ruin their night. He looked around for a minute, not really knowing what to expect. He saw a wide circle around the screaming group and everyone close was staring and snickering. He also saw one person looking cautiously at them with a phone up to her ear.

"Yes. They're screaming at each other and nothing they're saying makes sense. I see it as a danger because they're threatening each other violently! Okay, okay. Yes, thank you. I would feel much better if you sent someone to check it out, yes. Thank you, ma'am."

Seb saw where this was going. And he nor Jim could risk a run-in with the police. Especially in a public place. He doubted Sherlock or John would appreciate the check-up either. "Sorry to ruin your little chat here, guys," he interrupted, talking over the others. "But I think we should be expecting some company soon." Seb gestured around to the audience, spotting the lady who had called the police, a smug expression on her face.

Jim looked at the ceiling in frustration. "UUUUUUHHHHHHGGGGGGGG! I hate those guys!"

"Yeah, I know. Come on, lets go home." Seb tried.

"Home?! How do we just go home?! Do you see this!?" Jim shoved his hands at Sherlock.

"Like this!" Seb swooped down and wrapped his arms around Jim's small waist. Hoisting his boss over his shoulder, Sebastian made way for the door. "See ya later, guys! It wasn't fun talking to you!" He waved his free hand at the two men.

"Sebby! Sebby, put me down! I am a grown man! Sebby!" Jim was pounding at the mans back, pinching his butt and tugging at his shirt.

"Sorry boss. I'll put you down when we get to the cab. Say bye to your friends, now."

Jim sighed and went limp on the sniper. Then he propped himself up on Seb's back. Resting his elbow on the small of Sebby's back, he put his head on his hand. "Bye, bye, boys! See you soooooooooooooon!" He gave his enemies his most mischievous smile. Sherlock had to admit, even though Moriarty was being carried away potato-sack style on his prized sniper's back, Holmes had been chilled to the bones.


End file.
